Leap Year
by mythweaver1
Summary: FFIV. POST-TAY. NON-CANNON. KIZZY. SHENANIGANS. Kain's best kept secret. A determined ninja. And a bet.
**A/N: HA! I TOLD you I'd get it done, Moonclaw!**

 **Happy Kain Appreciation Day, everyone! A day that happens but once a leap year XD**

 **Enjoy this strange…random little fic.**

 **Warning: Kizzy.**

 **0-0-0-0-0-0-0**

 **Leap Year**

"Kain's birthday?" Rosa asked with a blink and a tilt of her head. "I don't recall celebrating it any time recently…." she mused, tucking a long strand of golden hair behind one ear.

Izayoi sighed. She had hoped that Rosa, of all people, might have some insight into the stoic dragoon's least favorite holiday.

"I was too busy keeping track of Cecil's birthday, my mother's birthday, Cid's birthday, the birthdays of the white mages in my conclave…" Rosa listed off on her fingers, sounding regretful.

 _Poor Kain never had a chance,_ Izayoi thought with an eyeroll.

"Thanks, then," the ninja interrupted as Rosa launched into another series of excuses. "Maybe someone else will know."

"Good luck!" Rosa called after her feebly.

Izayoi strode through Baron castle's hallways whittling down her list of suspects. She'd made a bet with Kain, after all, and she always won her bets.

Cid had been useless, as had his daughter Astrid, but she hadn't interviewed all of the dragoons yet. Abruptly changing course, Izayoi set off in the direction of the barracks.

0-0-0-0-0-0

"The Captain's birthday?" one dragoon asked, cocking his head at a fellow man-at-arms.

"I always assumed he'd hatched out of an egg, or something," the other man agreed. "I don't remember him ever celebrating a birthday. Or smiling, for that matter."

Izayoi placed her hands on her hips, staring with exasperation at the ceiling. "He got to you, didn't he?" she sighed.

One of them had the nerve to crack the barest hint of a smile. Izayoi narrowed her eyes.

"In all the years you've known him, he's never celebrated his birthday?" she pressed.

"We tried to figure it out, once," the first dragoon mentioned. "But the captain was a closed book on the matter. We gave up after a few years."

 _He's worse than Edge,_ Izayoi realized.

"It's like there's no record of his birth anywhere," a third dragoon mentioned, setting his helmet down on the table beside the others. "Good luck, though."

Records. Birth records.

"Thank you for nothing, gentlemen," Izayoi snapped as she exited the barracks in search of the records room.

0-0-0-0-0

"What do you mean, 'gone'?" Izayoi asked the scholar in charge of the castle's library.

"I mean gone," the bearded, elderly gentleman repeated with an air of annoyance. "Set on fire, burned, destroyed—gone. You can thank Golbez for that."

 _Damned Lunarians._

"Why destroy birth records?" Izayoi asked, baffled.

"I don't read minds," the scholar snipped as he re-shelved a leather bound tome. "And I don't care to keep track of individual persons' birthdays."

 _He reminds me of Harley,_ Izayoi thought.

"I see," she said with a frown.

"Now get out, this library is _closed,"_ the scholar insisted, shooing her out and closing the door an inch from her nose.

0-0-0-0-0

Izayoi retraced steps from earlier in the day and found Cecil training in the yard, sending up puffs of dust from his maneuvers. She leaned against the fence post at the edge of the ring and crossed her arms, waiting for him to notice she was there.

When he did, he was streaked with sweat and dirt, and wandered over to her, wiping off his forehead with the back of his hand.

"Izayoi," he said, slightly out of breath. "What brings about this unexpected meeting?"

"Kain's birthday," she answered simply.

"Ah," he chuckled. "Still haven't figured it out, have you?"

"You grew up together," she said. "You _must_ know when it is."

Cecil returned his practice sword to the rack and shrugged. "He doesn't like to make a big deal of it. I can only remember two occasions where we marked the day with celebratory drinks."

She looked down her nose at the paladin king—which was a feat considering his height. "Were any of those times _recent?"_ she fished.

"Ask the tavern master," Cecil said with a wink.

0-0-0-0-0-0

"Winter, huh?" Izayoi asked, slamming a shot glass down onto the bar. "More whiskey."

The tavern master eyed her skeptically. "You can really hold your liquor," he commented as he poured her another round.

"When in winter?" Izayoi asked with a lazy twist of her wrist. "Beginning? Middle? End?"

The older man scratched his head. "Let's see, now. Kain rarely drinks for happy occasions, and the last time I saw him smile might have been sometime around the Festival of Love."

Izayoi snorted. "Steal that one from the Mysidians?" she asked.

The tavern master poured himself a shot of his own whiskey and slammed it back. "Ha," he guffawed. "Probably. Those mages have a holiday for everything."

Izayoi laughed. Her favorite Mysidian holiday was the Festival of the Disenfranchised Musicians. Or whatever.

"February, then," she mused, inspecting her shot glass in the light of the room. "One last thing," she said, leering at the tavern master.

"Oh?"

"What do you think guilt tastes like?"

"You're drunk. Go home."

0-0-0-0-0-0

Izayoi stumbled through the doorway of the apartment she shared with Kain much later that evening.

"I told you not to bother," Kain told her, looking up from the papers on his desk.

"I'm going to figure it out," she retorted, tripping over one of his boots on the way in.

"Why?"

"Because I'm a ninja, dammit," she said, turning and kicking the offending boot out of her way.

Kain narrowed his eyes at her. "You've been drinking again, haven't you?"

"Who smiles so little that the _tavernmaster_ notices?" she asked instead.

"My face is most comfortable in one position," he said with a shrug, his expression bland indeed.

Izayoi walked over to him and pulled his cheeks in opposite directions.

"What's wrong with you?" she demanded.

"Go to bed," he said firmly, standing up and maneuvering her toward their bed.

"I'm going to figure it out," she said.

"Sure you will…."

0-0-0-0-0

Nursing a magnificent hangover, Izayoi spent the next morning traveling to the castle infirmary in search of a remedy.

As she crossed from the door of the infirmary to the giant medicine cabinet where potions and tinctures of every variety were kept, she noticed that Porom was also in the room; fine-tuning a spell on a severed pig's foot.

Izayoi hid her disgusted expression behind the cabinet door as she rummaged for what she needed.

"Porom," she began, waiting until the white mage was finished with her task. "What do you think guilt tastes like?"

"Whatever you drank yesterday," Porom answered pertly.

Izayoi rolled her eyes. "No, seriously."

"In relation to what, exactly?"

"Cake."

"Chocolate. Definitely chocolate. With raisins in it. No one ever sees _that_ coming," the white mage nodded and then cursed as a pot of ink tipped over onto her notes. "Crystals!" she spat, throwing sand on the puddle.

Izayoi slinked out of the room, tincture in hand, pondering this strange piece of insight and who else might have more.

And then she passed a plaque on the wall with a list of white mages that had gone on to complete great deeds and legendary feats.

 _Joanna Farrell…._

"He'll never see it coming," Izayoi said to herself, preparing for a short journey into town.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Later that afternoon, Izayoi knocked on the stately red door of the home belonging to Joanna Farrell. Rosa's mother.

The elderly woman took quite a while to come to the door, and for a moment, Izayoi wondered if she'd knocked on the wrong door.

"Can I help you?" Rosa's mother asked when she finally opened the door, squinting up at Izayoi.

"Good morning," Izayoi said awkwardly, suddenly realizing she had no idea which honorific to use.

"Well, can I help you?" the older woman repeated, suddenly exasperated. "I don't allow solicitors."

"You're Rosa's mother, yes?" Izayoi asked. "I'm a friend of your daughter's and Cecil."

"Oh!" Rosa's mother exclaimed. "Come in, then!"

Izayoi discovered, quite suddenly, how well prepared Rosa's mother was for guests. It was as if the tea had been boiled in advance of her coming.

"Please, sit down," Joanna beckoned, pulling out a chair.

There was tea and biscuits and what turned out to be an endless circular conversation—mostly about Rosa.

"Do you remember Richard Highwind?" Izayoi finally asked after the pleasantries had finished.

"Oh, Richard," Rosa's mother said wistfully, as her gaze drifted to the window. "Shame, really, what happened to him and Kalyssa."

"I'd like to know about his son," Izayoi told Rosa's mother, hoping to keep her on track.

"Kain," Joanna said, her expression darkening.

"What was he like as a child?" Izayoi asked.

Rosa's mother returned to her bright, usual self. "He was a smart child. Helpful, but…always sad somehow."

"You wouldn't happen to remember when he was born, would you?"

"You know, that is a good question," the elderly woman mused. "I remember that Richard was so proud the day his son was born."

Izayoi resisted the urge to impatiently drum her fingers on the table.

And then Rosa's mother suddenly chuckled. "Now that I think of it, Richard always thought it was funny that his son had been born in a leap year. 'Perfect for dragoons', he'd said. 'And you only have to celebrate it once every four years!'"

 _A leap year, huh?_

"I remember now!" Joanna exclaimed, setting down her teacup. "Kain got so embarrassed by his birthday that he refused to celebrate it!"

"That sounds likely," Izayoi said.

"He got so spiteful about it, I think he even invented a new birthday for himself."

"So _that's_ why no one could keep their stories straight."

The woman laughed, spilling some tea over the rim. "Oh dear, now I've gone and done it," she muttered, wiping up the mess.

"Why are you so curious about Kain?" Rosa's mother asked. "I thought you came to talk about my daughter…?"

"Maybe another day," Izayoi said, bowing out of politeness for the tea.

"You're not leaving, are you?"

"I regretfully must go," Izayoi said, standing up and walking toward the door.

"Oh…well, please come again. Bring many interesting questions."

0-0-0-0-0-0

Izayoi returned to Baron castle with a grin on her face. There was only one day that came once every four years. And it was only five months away….

"Why do you look so pleased with yourself?" she heard a voice call from the shadows.

"Edge, when did you get to Baron?"

"This morning," he answered, peeling himself away from the wall. "But you were too hungover to notice."

She rolled her eyes. "I was busy with…things." She answered vaguely.

"By the look of things, you've found what you were looking for."

Izayoi stopped dead in her tracks. "That reminds me. I need your help with something."

Edge grinned. "Do tell."

0-0-0-0-0

"Izayoi," Kain said five months later, sounding put-out. "Why do I have to stop everything I'm doing and come to the dining hall?"

"Because," she answered impatiently, yanking him by the arm.

"It's not even time for lunch," he said, annoyed.

"Trust me," she replied, pushing past the double doors.

"Surprise!" a chorus of voices cried from within the room.

Kain nearly fell over backwards with mortification.

" _No!"_ he bellowed, staring at everyone. "It can't be!" and then his eyes landed on Cecil's. "I was just in a meeting with you—how did you get here so fast?"

"I teleported," the king answered neatly.

"Who," Kain blurted, his tone darkening. " _Who?"_

"A ninja never reveals her sources," Izayoi said delightedly.

"How did you…" he said, running his fingers through his long, blonde hair.

"Now _this_ is what you must see," she said instead, leading him toward the table in the center of the room.

"What on earth is that?" he asked.

"Your cake," she revealed.

"I can see that. What I meant was, why is it so _tall?"_

"Seventeen layers for seventeen years," she said.

Kain stared at her. "This is Mount Ordeals?" he asked.

"The cake," she tacked on.

"You made Mount Ordeals into a cake," he repeated, dumbfounded.

"I chose the flavor!" Porom added.

"And I helped with the raisins!" Palom chimed in.

"Why would you ruin a perfectly good cake with raisins?" Kain butted in, outraged.

"And I had Edge find one of the best camouflage painters to decorate it," Izayoi finished.

Kain stood in front of the bizarre cake, shaking his head for several long moments.

"Happy birthday, Kain," Izayoi said, laying a peck on his cheek.

"How you ever…." He began.

"No matter how I figured it out," she reminded him. "The bet still stands."

Kain sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he gave his king a look.

"You owe me an airship ferry lane."

"Yes!" Edge cheered.

" _What?!"_ Cecil demanded.

"…So who wants cake?" Palom asked with a grin; serving spatula in hand.

~Fin~


End file.
